


Castiel's Rules

by CameronBlacksReads



Series: Castiel's Rules [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Bottom Dean Winchester, Butt Plugs, Castiel/Dean Winchester BDSM, Cock Rings, Collared Dean Winchester, Collars, Dean Winchester Likes It Rough, Dirty Talk, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Dom/sub, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Flogging, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Blood Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, a little fluff, degredation, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameronBlacksReads/pseuds/CameronBlacksReads
Summary: A look inside the private and kinky lives of Dean and Castiel as a married couple, and how they let off steam. Can rules the household, while Dean is there to be used.OrDean has a shitty day at work and needs a little domination and punishment. This is pure, filthy, steamy smut.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Series: Castiel's Rules [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689247
Comments: 10
Kudos: 208





	Castiel's Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies! I am terribly bored here in self-isolation, so I whipped up this smutty delicious fic and barely edited it, for your enjoyment! This is pure unfiltered smut, so proceed with caution. Please read the tags!

In the Novak house, one had to live by several rules. Castiel (or more specifically, his obsessive and anxious nature) demanded order. Anyone who lived under the Novak roof was also subject to these rules. The main ones were as follows:

1\. No shoes in the house  
2\. No one but Cas (and sometimes Dean) could mess with Cas’ bees in the backyard  
3\. You load your own dishes  
4\. You do your own laundry; no mixing loads  
5\. Pick up your shit, there is no need for clutter  
6\. The collar dictates play and scenes

Of course, because Cas was Cas, there were more rules that fell under these main ones. For example, Dean had to ask to help with the bees, he couldn’t just do it. But the most important ones had to do with rule number 6. There were the unspoken ones, like they didn’t have to use the collar to have sex, and just because they used the collar didn’t garuntee an orgasm. Either Cas or Dean could initiate by securing the collar around Dean’s neck, but Cas usually let Dean initiate. Then there were the written rules:

1\. As soon as the collar was on, play begins, and it stops as soon as the collar comes off  
2\. Cas must be referred to as Sir  
3\. Dean was not to wear any article of clothing, unless otherwise requested by Cas  
4\. Dean was not to touch The Box  
5\. Dean could not touch himself unless Cas asked him to do so  
6\. Rules constructed in the moment were as pertinent as those written down  
7\. Failure to comply in these rules would result in a punishment of Cas’ choosing

In the master bedroom, Dean and Cas had a little table, one that looked like it should be attached to a vanity, where the collar and the rules resided. Dean spent a very long time searching for his collar when they finally decided to get him one. At first, he wanted one made of blue leather that would match Cas’ eyes, but none of the colors were right, and if they were, then they were too lacy and frilly. In the end, he went with a simple, lightweight black collar. It was about an inch and a half tall, and was made of two layers. The outer layer was heavy-duty leather, and it held the clasp, the thick metal d-ring, and a little plaque that said “Property of Castiel Novak.” The inner layer had some soft fabric that would be gentle on his skin. The collar as a whole sat on a little navy blue crushed velvet pillow atop the table. Hanging on the wall above that, was a frame containing the rules written in Cas’ scrawling handwriting, with both of their signatures at the bottom.

Next to the little table sat The Box. The Box was maybe a foot in each direction, and was a bright red. Inside the box was everything Dean could ever dream of. The leash for his collar was in there. Several different butt plugs of different styles and sizes were laid neatly at the base. Huge, monster dildos stood at attention, propped up against the side. Cock rings. Nipple clamps. Cock rings attached to nipple clamps. Riding crops. Whips. Paddles. Floggers. Different kinds of lube. Pacifiers and onesies for when Dean was feeling little. Snout and tail for puppy play. Silk ropes in black and red.

When Dean was not wearing the collar, he could go into The Box and use whatever he wanted. But when he was wearing the collar, even a glance in The Box’s direction would earn a harsh word from Sir.

This little, unassuming corner of the master bedroom was their kinky paradise. 

\------

It was Thursday evening, and Dean had had a rough day. He was actually excited to go to work that morning, as he was scheduled to work on this really nice classic car that had some mysterious problem, and he got to just dig around under her hood until he figured it out. But then there had been a rush of other customers needing oil changes or other minor things. Dean got caught up in dealing with all that bullshit, and then the owner of the classic car came in. He was a little unassuming british guy, Mick, and boy, did he tear Dean a new one. He yelled at Dean, explaining all the reasons why his car should be top priority, and why Dean, personally, was a huge failure. In the end, the guy ended up taking his car to another garage without paying them for their services.

It wasn’t so much that Dean gave a flying fuck what other people thought of him, but he really hated being yelled at, especially about his work. He was a good mechanic and he knew it. This was his big dream, to own his own garage, so when someone criticized him about it, it hit him like a ton of bricks. It hit him in the wound that had never healed, from all those people telling him that he would never make it, that he wasn’t good enough. 

So he stayed late at the office, doing paperwork and a little write up about the whole fiasco with the classic car douche. By the time he was home, he was an hour later than he normally was, but he still came home to an empty house. Cas had a standing board meeting every Thursday night, and so he usually didn’t get home until 6:30 in the evening. It was now just after 6. Dean decided that he desperately needed to scene tonight.

Dean scampered off to the bedroom on the second floor of their house. He hastily ripped off all his clothes and threw them in the hamper that was hidden away in his closet. He went over to the table and picked up the collar, fastening it on his neck. He made it tight enough that there was tension when his adam’s apple moved or when he swallowed, but not so much that he struggled to breathe.

Dean looked over at The Box. He knew he couldn’t touch it, but just putting the collar on made him hard, and he didn’t know how long he could last when Cas finally did come home. And he really did want to last. Besides, with the day he’s had, he wouldn’t mind being punished a little bit.

With that, Dean opened up The Box and grabbed a simple black, rubber cock ring. He slipped it on and gave himself a couple of strokes before he scampered back down the stairs to the living room. 

The house that Dean and Cas shared was not large by any means, but it was big enough that the living room was separated from the entryway, and they were not in view of one another. Dean grabbed his favorite pillow, and set it next to the couch against the far wall, so that he would be the last thing Cas saw when he walked in. He kneeled, clasped his hands behind his back, looked down, and waited. 

After what felt like an eternity (but was actually closer to twenty whole minutes), Dean heard Cas putting his keys in the lock. Dean straightened his spine, but kept his eyes downcast. The door finally opened.

“Dean?” Cas called, his deep voice rumbling through the house. Dean made no move to answer. He heard Cas toe off his shoes and hand up his trench coat. Then he heard Cas’ socked feet padding down the hall.

Dean saw when Cas’ feet first crossed the threshold into the living room, but Cas did not see him right away. Dean could feel his heart in his throat, against his collar, as he waited patiently for Cas to notice him. Cas was mid step when he finally saw Dean. He had his back heel lifted up, about to take a step when he froze, put his heel down, and turned his feet so toes were facing Dean. Dean could hardly breathe. He could feel a blush eating his skin, from his cheeks all the way through his shoulders, and he just blushed harder when he remembered that Cas liked when he looked like that.

“Dean,” Cas growled. It had taken him exactly no time to get into full dom mode, and for that, Dean was grateful.

“Yes, sir?” Dean answered, still averting his eyes.

“What is this?” Cas started walking in Dean’s direction. Dean was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Maybe Cas wasn’t in the mood to scene.

“I, um,” Dean bit his lip and clutched his hands tighter, “I was hoping I could surprise you. I was thinking maybe we could help each other relax, or I could help you relax, sir.”

“That sounds fine pet,” Cas was now in front of Dean. He grabbed Dean’s chin and yanked it up, forcing Dean to meet his eyes. “But that was not what I was talking about. What is this?” Cas roughly pulled Dean’s hard cock, and Dean let out a whine through gritted teeth.

“I, um, I-I didn’t know how, um, long I wo-would last, and I wanted to be good for you, so I, um, didn’ wanna cum too fast.” Dean looked down by the end, feeling ashamed that he had broken a big rule. Cas grabbed his hair at the same time as he gripped Dean’s chin harder, and Dean met his eyes again. They stared at each other a moment, azure eyes flicking between emerald ones. Dean wasn’t sure if Cas became more receptive during scenes, if Dean became more expressive, or a combination of the two, but when they were like this, Cas could read Dean like a book. He could tell exactly where Dean’s head was at, exactly what he needed. Dean let him stare for a moment longer, before Cas seemed to have gathered all the information he needed, and let him go.

“So, what,” Cas began, acting like he was unimpressed even though the growing bulge in his slacks told a different story, “your need to ‘be good for me’ as you say has given you memory loss so you forgot one our most basic rules? Or did you simply not care?” If it was possible, Dean blushed even harder.

“Dean. Answer me.”

“I, um, I don’t know. I just though-”

“No,” Cas said in not quite a yell, but more than just a firm voice, “you didn’t think you just acted.” Cas sighed. “I suppose you’ll have to be punished. Am I correct in assuming that you touched yourself?” Dean nodded solemnly. Cas sighed again and turned to walk towards the kitchen.

“Go upstairs and kneel over the trunk, boy. I’ll be up shortly.” Cas walked off, and Dean slowly stood up, waiting for his knees to work and for the blood to go back to his feet. He then jogged up the stairs to the master.

The trunk was this black storage container. There were two fake clasps on the trunk simply for decoration. It sat at the foot of their bed, centered in between these big wooden posts that were a part of the bed frame. Its primary use was just to store photo albums and other random knick knacks that they didn’t have any place to show them off. However, it was also on days like today where it would be used for sex.

Dean kneeled in front of the trunk, and then bent over it, so his chest was laying on the top of the trunk. The thing was a bit of a monster, so even its smaller side was big enough for Dean to fit his whole upper body on it comfortably. Dean crossed his arms and pillowed his head on top of them, getting ready. Again, Dean had to test his patience, making sure he doesn’t rub himself against the trunk.

Approximately seven million years later, Dean heard Cas’ socked feet coming up the carpeted stairs. Again, Dean’s spine went rigid, but he didn’t change his posture. Dean heard Cas come into the room, but he could not see him. Cas walked over to his closet. A few moments later, Dean heard the shirt slip off Cas’ shoulders. Then he heard the floorboards shift as Cas moved around. Cas walked to the side of the room opposite the door, where The Box was located. Cas opened The Box agonizingly slowly, causing the hinges to squeak. Dean heard him rummaging around in there for a while before Cas walked over to him.

Cas stood over him for several moments, and Dean couldn’t help but squirm a bit under the scrutiny. 

“Grab the posts, boy,” Cas ordered, and Dean hurried to comply. Dean gripped the wooden posts like his life depended on it. He felt Cas approach his left side. Cas began to wrap a length of rope around Deans wrist and secure it to the post. Once Cas was sure that Dean wouldn’t be getting out of his hold, Cas began to tie intricate knots along the length of Dean’s arm, all the way to his shoulder. Cas did the same on the right side. When they were even and symmetrical, Cas took a third length of rope to tie the ropes securing Dean’s arms together. He wound the rope around Dean’s shoulders and back, so that the final result had Dean’s shoulder blades pinned together, giving him basically no leverage. He was left at his master’s mercy.

Cas admired his handy work for a bit, simply taking in the sight that was Dean, and then kneeled behind him. Dean heard the sound of the lube cap popping open and he was slightly disappointed that they weren’t dragging this out a little longer.

As though reading his mind, Cas chuckled. “Come on, pet. You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you? You broke not one but two rules. You are in for a long night.” Then Cas was roughly thrusting his lubed finger in Dean’s hole. Dean couldn’t resist letting out a grunt, because Cas was not going easy on him. 

As soon as the first finger wasn’t causing him pain, Cas slammed a second finger in Dean’s hole. He scisered Dean open once, twice, and then he was gone. Dean waited, hoping that maybe three fingers would return, but instead he got a barely-lubed butt plug. Dean and Cas had purchased various sizes of butt plugs, designed to be used during kinds of activities they were planning, and Dean could tell this was the smallest one they owned. Cas slammed the plug all the way in, then with startling gentileness, started fucking Dean with it, rubbing deliciously against his prostate. Dean bit his lip and grabbed the ropes, trying with all his might to not make a sound.

Cas stopped his torture and stood up. “You’ve been very bad, haven’t you, boy?” Cas asked. Dean could tell he was picking something up.

“Yes, sir” Dean said, his voice shaking.

“And why is that, pet? Did you need attention? Did you need my firm hand to remind you where you belong? Did you need to be punished?”

Dean was sweating all over now. He felt like he might have been able to come from the dirty talk alone, if it weren’t for the cock ring. “Yes, sir. All of those. Please sir, just-”

Cas struck him roughly with Dean’s favorite flogger. “Shut up, cunt. You will not speak unless spoken too.” Dean nodded his understanding. “Now, you broke two rules, Dean. That means you get twenty lashes, ten for each rule. The only sound I want to hear out of you now is when you count off each lash I give you. Understood?”

Fuck, Dean could barely breathe. He nodded his understanding, knowing Cas wouldn’t begin until he did.

With that. Cas slapped the left side of Dean’s ass with enough force to push his groin into the trunk underneath him. Dean could feel the hot and cold sting of every single leather strip that had touched his skin.

“One,” Dean panted. 

Cas struck the right side, just a little bit harder. “Two,” Dean managed to squeeze out. Cas just kept it up. Every time Dean counted off a lash, Cas took that as a signal to get one with the next one. Every lash was harder than the last. Every lash had Dean suppressing a whine and a groan and clenching his muscles tighter.

With the hardest strike yet, Dean cried out and started grinding against the chest. He felt his orgasm fighting to be released, but it was trapped; it was being held in. Dean felt tears falling down his cheeks, but he took note of it absentmindedly, like maybe someone was pouring water on him, but he wasn’t crying.

“Dean?” Cas called, trying to draw the man back to him. Dean just kept humping the trunk and crying softly. Cas laid a gentile hand on Dean’s back.

“Hey, Dean? I need you to talk to me baby. What’s your color, love?” Cas asked in his softest voice.

“Hnggg,” was Dean’s only response. At this point, he had realized that he wasn’t going to come, and he was just frustrated.

“Dean,” Cas said, his voice just a bit more firm now, “I need you to answer me. What’s your color?”

The no nonsense tone and the concern in Cas’ voice brought Dean out of it a bit. “Green, sir. Fifteen. Keep going,” Dean insisted. His breathing was shallow but his eyes were more focused. 

“Dean, I-”

“Keep going, Cas. Please. I need it.”

Cas sighed, knowing Dean was not going to let this go. He started up again, but softer this time. By the time they reached twenty, Dean could feel blood dripping down the back of his thighs and precome dripping down the insides. 

Dean felt more than heard when Cas stepped back from him and dropped the flogger somewhere nearby, presumably in case Dean acted out again and needed to be reprimanded. Cas paced behind him a bit.

“You did so well, pet. You are such a good boy. Now that you’ve been punished, I’m gonna reward you for giving me such a nice surprise. How does that sound?” Cas was smiling, caressing Dean’s body with his gaze. 

“Good, sir. Really good. Thank you so much sir.” Dean was wiggling his ass in little circles trying to egg Cas on, and from the growls coming from the other man, it was working.

“Fuck, pet, you look so good like that. All bloody and begging for my cock. Well don’t worry baby, you’ll get it.” Dean heard the clasp of Was' belt buckle, then the cap of the lube bottle being flicked open again. That was for Cas. Dean loved it when his asshole would hurt for days afterward from little to no prep, but Cas hated a chafed dick. So a little extra lube made it easier for Cas, and also relieved a little bit of the worry that he was hurting his husband.

When Cas was done slicking himself up, he grabbed hold of the butt plug, shoving it roughly deeper into Dean and then pulling it all the way out. Cas gripped Dean’s hip and ground his hard length against Dean’s begging hole.

“Fuck, sir,” Dean knew Cas loved it when he begged, and he was happy to oblige, “take me. Please sir. Use me up. Give me your fat cock. Please sir, please.”

“Fuck boy, you’re so good, begging for my dick. You want it, baby? You want me to give it to you?” Cas was smearing precome and lube all over Dean’s hole.

“Yes, please sir, ple-”

And then Cas thrust all the way in with one fluid motion. Dean couldn't breathe. He could feel every glorious inch of Cas, every vein, and he felt like he would be split in two. Fuck, it was delicious.

With little hesitation, Cas started thrusting in and out of Dean, giving him no time to adjust. The feel of Cas’ balls and hip bones against Dean’s raw ass made him feel like he was high, like he was home. That feeling was almost as good as sex, almost. 

Cas held on to a hipbone with one hand, and fisted Dean’s hair with another. He pulled until the column of Dean’s throat was stretched, and he could feel his collar with every breath.

“You’re such a good little slut. So wet and tight for me. You like having your master’s big fat cock in your little pussy, huh?” Cas was panting and putting his full weight into every thrust.

“Yes, sir. I love it so much.” Dean was crying again. Cas was hitting his prostate with every other thrust and he could have come yesterday, and everything hurt. His cock hurt from lack of release. His ass hurt from the flogging he had taken. His hole hurt from Cas’ monster cock splitting him open. His scalp hurt from Cas pulling his hair. His shoulders hurt from how he was tied up. God, it was the most delicious feeling.

“You are such a good whore. You were built to be fucked by me; that is your only purpose in life, pet. You are simply a whole for me to use until I tire of you. You are a toy, built to deliver me pleasure and nothing more. You are nothing, but a tool for me to use. You are nothing. And you fucking love it. You are such a cockslut, and I’m the only one who can satisfy you.”

Dean thought this might have been the best fuck he'd ever had. Dean could barely move in this position, but he thrust back on Cas’ dick as much as he could. Cas was going faster all the time. Dean could tell he was close.

“Sir, please. Please fuck me, use me up, fill me to the brim. Please, sir. Please,” Dean begged, hoping that Cas would take mercy on him and they could both come.

With that, Cas started fucking him harder and deeper than before. With one solid thrust, Cas let go of Dean’s hair and ripped the cockring off.

Dean was coming. His vision whited out, like he had stepped into a blizzard of bliss. This feeling was better than any drug imaginable. Dean was just floating, flying, for what felt like an eternity, just riding out his high. He was blind to everything else around him.

When Dean came to, he was in a similar position as he was before, but he wasn’t tied up, and he was on the bed. Cas was behind him, rubbing what Dean assumed to be ointment into his ass and around his hole. Dean turned his head to look at Cas, and saw that his collar had been taken off.

When Cas saw him, he smiled. “Hey love,” Cas said, like he was walking on glass, afraid something would break, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I just had the most amazing experience of my life,” Dean grinned. Cas wiped the extra ointment on the bed spread, and crawled up to scoop Dean into his arms. The two men cuddled for a while, before Cas finally broke the silence.

“Are you okay, love? Did something happen today?” The concern in Cas’ voice made Dean’s heart melt.

“Yeah. Some douche came in and yelled at me today. Made me feel shitty. Then that just threw the whole day off and I was really anxious, so I just needed to let off some steam.” There was always a small part of Dean that worried that one day Cas would think these needs were weird or too much for him to handle, even though Dean knew that thought process was irrational. So Dean tucked his head into Cas’ chest, avoiding eye contact, just in case today was that day.

“I’m sorry that happened love. Is there anything I can do?” Cas was rubbing his back gently.

“Nothing that you aren’t doing already,” Dean smiled up at his husband.

Cas leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Dean’s lips, hugging him close. They stayed like that for a while, just cuddling. Dean felt like he could breathe again, like there wasn’t this weight on his shoulders anymore. He felt so safe and secure in the arms of this beautiful, strong, perfect man that he was in love with.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean said horsley, tilting his chin up to meet his husband’s eyes. 

Cas adjusted a bit, so he and Dean were eye to eye. “I love you too, Dean. So very much.” Cas placed a gentile kiss on Dean’s forehead. Dean fell asleep shortly thereafter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A comment or a kudos means you win my friendship forever!


End file.
